


Public Duty, Private Mischief

by Maddalia



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddalia/pseuds/Maddalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After approximately two years as partners, Doyle is struggling to accommodate the deepening of his feelings for Bodie, and reconcile them with a sexually confused past. When the two agents find themselves thrown closer together by a difficult assignment, they are prompted to tell awkward truths that could make or break their friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Public Duty, Private Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> This is a later (and, I trust, better) version of a fic I posted to my LJ back in September. It is the first in a series of standalone, but related stories, that (originally enough for Prosfic *g*) chart the development of Bodie and Doyle's relationship.
> 
> Thanks very much to moonlightmead for helping me to make this fic a lot better than it was the first time.

* * *

_It was that bloody dream again. Ray knew it immediately. He recognised the streets down which he was walking, the shabby-chic bohemian clothes he had on. He’d have liked to run, or take a different route, but he couldn’t. He was locked into this, and he'd have to stay with it until the shock of the dream's culmination woke him. He’d turn off here, take the shortcut, and then …_

_Yes, there he was, the friend from the art students' party, the one Ray had kissed drunkenly but walked away from, unenthused about the experiment -- for experiment was all it had been. The guy had decided to follow him, and now he was here, seizing him from behind, trapping his arms at his sides ... Ray felt the familiar sense of revulsion as he realised the bloke’s intensions, to take what he wanted whether Ray consented or not. He prepared to fight: they were of a similar height and build, but Ray had grown up on rough streets and knew every dirty trick in the book … besides, he knew this dream; he_ always _fought him off, didn't he?_

_Then, Ray felt an unfamiliar sense of rising panic ... was it getting worse? The arms around him felt bigger, stronger … maybe he wouldn't be able to fight him off this time … was the dream finally becoming the nightmare he’d avoided in real life?_

_But the hands stopped at his waist. They didn’t move down; they didn’t grope. The arms were gentle, he realised: gentle and reassuring. And the voice in his ear wasn’t that of the weasly kid he’d kissed years ago on a dare. It was a deep, sensuous voice, like the thrum of a well–oiled engine, or the purr of a cat._

_‘Shh,’ said the voice. ‘It’s alright, sunshine. It’s me.’_

_Ray stopped struggling, and looked sideways at the face close to his own._

_‘Bodie?’_

_The mouth smiled; the blue eyes were warm. And Ray wasn’t revolted. He didn’t grow angry, or fearful. He sighed with relief._

_‘Bodie,’ he said again, and to the surprise of his dream self, he relaxed, leaning back into the embrace, knees bent a little so he could rest his head comfortably against Bodie’s neck and jaw. Soft lips kissed his temple; strong arms held him, and Ray had never felt so safe and contented in his life._

_He reached for the hands that were clasped against his stomach. He parted them, held them in both his own, moved them down, down …_

* * * * *

Ray jolted awake: his R/T was bleeping at him. For once he was thankful for being woken before his dream got to the good part, because tonight -- or rather, this morning -- he wasn't alone. This, however, was a cause for worry on its own. If Ray was going to start having wet dreams about his partner, not only on nights when he was alone, but a matter of hours after he'd had it away with a girl and was still asleep in her bed … Bodie, or rather a fantasy version of him, would be destroying Ray's waking life as surely as he had just made his sleeping one a whole lot more pleasurable.

That particular dream, Ray hadn't had in years, and tonight was the first time his would-be assailant had ever turned into someone else. It was a memory rather than a dream: a sexual experience he'd have preferred to forget, only it came back to haunt him while he slept. It had spoilt the fledgeling awareness that had begun in Ray when he was in his early twenties -- that his sexuality wasn't as black and white as he'd thought. It was, he'd decided, _thrillingly_ complex, full of possibilities. His failed experiment, however, had put him off men for years, so much so that he became convinced that his bisexuality had been a brief, youthful phase. He hadn't so much as looked at anyone else until he met Bodie. His partner, now his best mate after two years working together, was the only man outside of movies and magazines that Ray had ever been attracted to. Not that this exactly surprised him. You just couldn't _help_ it with Bodie. Even straight men noticed him and felt envy, and surely anyone with the _slightest,_ most latent tendency to fancy men would find themselves unable to resist.

Ray, to his increasing distress, was in a lot deeper than that.

The bleep turned out to be an early morning call from Alpha 1. Apart from the fact it was six o'clock, Ray didn't exactly regret having to leave. Juliet was more Bodie's type than his. But with each pub crawl, every double date, he found himself more and more eager to steal girls from his best friend. He liked to kid himself, most of the time, that the satisfaction he got out of the idea of Bodie sleeping alone was friendly, boyish competition. It was easier than acknowledging what he'd been trying for months to get over: wanting Bodie to sleep with _him_. And not just something casual, either: Ray wanted to take Bodie to his bed and worship him, flesh to flesh. The thought was exquisite torture.

'Jules,' Ray murmured, kissing the soft-skinned shoulder of his bed partner. She was tanned golden. Ray preferred his women pale these days. Pale and dark-haired, and tall, and ... oh, who was he kidding?

'Mmm,' Juliet replied sleepily.

'I must be gone,' said Ray, sitting up and stretching. 'It is near day, and a lark called my boss has pierced the fearful hollow of mine ear.'

'What?' Juliet rolled over and looked bemusedly up at him.

'Ah, never mind. Look, I'll ring you, OK?'

 _Not bloody likely,_ he thought, as he got dressed. She was sound asleep again by the time he left. He wondered if she'd remember him if he _did_ call her back.

 _It's all so bloody meaningless,_ he considered as he started up the engine of his car and pulled out into the road. _I used to like that. What the fuck's happened to me?_

'Bodie,' Ray muttered irritably to himself.

He drove to Bodie's flat. He rang the bell, and was relieved when it was Bodie and not some bird who answered -- not that Bodie let girls answer the door at six-thirty in the morning these days, a time when the caller could only be Ray. Not since the Claire incident, anyway. Ray felt a twinge of shame as he realised how long, consciously or unconsciously, he'd been periodically sabotaging Bodie's dates.

 _You should want him to be happy,_ he chided himself.

'Oh, _no,'_ Bodie groaned at the sight of him. 'Tell me you've just brought me someone to make me breakfast in bed.'

'Sorry mate. Work,' Ray told him. Privately he considered how gorgeous Bodie looked, all bleary-eyed and ungroomed, wearing a black dressing gown that was tied just loosely enough to reveal a sliver of white thigh. Ray stopped himself from looking before he got too obvious about it.

 _Your eyes or your crotch?_ queried a sly little voice inside Ray's head -- a voice that in the past couple of months had come more and more to resemble his partner's.

'Want some coffee?' asked Bodie.

'Wouldn't say no. The Cow can wait ten minutes, can't he?'

'Great. I could murder a cuppa. Can you make it? I need a shower. Won't be long.'

'Cheeky bugger,' Ray said with a grin. He made for the kitchen, and Bodie for the bedroom. He raised and roughened his voice to continue, not caring who heard. 'One condition, Bodie. I'm not catering for whoever you've got with you.'

'Nah, I'm alone,' Bodie called back. 'You weren't though, were you? Randy little bastard.'

'I was with Juliet,' said Ray. He raised his voice further as he heard the shower start. He braced himself for the accusations, trying not to think about Bodie wet and naked, since it might hamper his ability to defend himself cogently.

'Oh yeah? How was she?' Bodie sounded like he couldn't care less. It saved an argument at any rate.

'She came across if that's what you mean.'

'Thought you hated that phrase?' Bodie shouted over the roar of the water.

'Maybe you're a bad influence, mate,' joked Ray.

'Ha!'

Ray spooned instant coffee into the two cleanest-looking mugs, and filled up the kettle.

'Oi, wanna scrub my back?' Bodie called out good-naturedly.

'God damn you,' muttered Ray. More loudly he replied: 'You're lucky I scored last night. If I were _really_ desperate I might take you up on that.'

'Oh DAH-ling, _stop!_ Bodie camped, laughing. Ray made himself laugh in response. Then the sound of the shower stopped, and soon after that the kettle started to shriek. While Ray was filling the coffee cups, Bodie emerged in smart black trousers and a cream shirt. A dark blue tie was draped loosely under his collar. His belt buckle was undone and he was towelling his hair dry. He smelled clean, and damp -- and male. Ray smiled companionably at him, but inside he thought he might have a heart attack.

'You alright?' asked Bodie.

Damn. He hadn't managed to hide it completely, then.

'Er. Just tired.'

'Get that down you.' Bodie gestured towards the coffee with his head. Droplets of water showered the kitchen bench. Ray only just moved his mug in time.

'Watch it, sheepdog!' he said crossly. But Bodie just grinned into his mug. His eyes twinkled at Ray over the top of it. Ray couldn't stop the warm smile that spread across his face. Bodie's expression went from mischievous to affectionate, and he smiled back.

 _Considering that I nigh on hate Bodie for making me fall for him,_ thought Ray, as they sipped their drinks in silence, _it's bizarre, how happy he makes me feel._

'Seriously, Ray, _are_ you all right?' Bodie asked, somewhat impatiently, when they were walking down to Ray's car ten minutes later, and Ray had lapsed from cheerful to sullen without even being aware he was feeling different. 'Even for you you're a moody bugger today.'

'I told you, I'm tired. Aren't you?'

'Me? I'm a picture of health and vitality, mate,' said Bodie. Then he pretended to fall asleep on Ray's shoulder. Ray squeezed his eyes shut for a second as his brain fought his heart and loins for supremacy. The feel of Bodie's heavy dark head resting against his neck was too wonderful.

'Geddoff!' he protested. He managed to sound plausibly annoyed as he shook Bodie off. Bodie, with a look of mock hurt, put up his hands.

'Fine!'

They got into the car. Ray drove in silence, faster than he normally did. It wasn’t that he was worried about being late; going fast just eased some of the tension. A couple of times he noticed Bodie glance at him, then hastily look out of the window. Ray could tell they were both getting more and more annoyed: himself because he was finding it a huge strain to keep hiding his feelings, and Bodie because he had no idea what was getting up Ray’s nose. What was more, Ray saw Bodie getting annoyed, felt guilty, and became even more irritable as a result.

 _Try and snap out of it,_ he told himself. _Bodie’s not doing this to you on purpose. He doesn’t deserve this. D’you want to lose him as a mate on top of never being able to have him as anything else?_

The thought was horrible. But no matter how hard Ray tried to make himself smile, think of a joke, think of _anything_ to say that might defuse the tension, even just inane chatter -– he couldn’t. The more he thought of it, the more he tensed up, until his neck ached and his chest ached and his throat constricted and if he’d been on his own, with time to spare, he could just about have wept. Not from lovesickness, not from depression, not even from anger; just from sheer stress. Sheer need for release.

There was another type of release, one that wouldn’t make his eyes red and his throat raw, and Ray went for that instead. When they reached HQ, he excused himself and went off to the gents. Luckily it was empty, so there was no one to hear the grunt he couldn’t suppress as he made himself come. It didn't take long; he only had to imagine how Bodie might have looked in the shower: hot, soapy water running in rivulets down his smooth ivory skin, near–black hair wet and sleek, on his head and down below …

‘Fuck,’ he whispered to his reflection in the mirror, as he washed his hands. ‘How long till I get over this?’

* * * * *

'Here we go again,' Ray said, when they were standing outside Cowley's office.

'Aww, don't be like that, Ray!' said Bodie. 'A smile a day ...'

'How about "a cliche a day keeps my fists up", eh?'

Bodie gave him a sour look, but didn't answer. He sighed, as if resigned to Ray's mood; Ray felt another twinge of guilt as Bodie knocked on the door.

'Come in!' Cowley called. 'Ah, Doyle, Bodie. I thought I said I wanted you here _now,_ not when you happened to feel like dropping in.'

'Ah, well, you see sir ...' Ray began.

'Traffic, sir, you know how it is,' Bodie finished. He looked the very picture of innocence. They smirked sideways at each other.

'All right, all right,' Cowley said, with an indulgent look. 'You're here now, so listen. Doyle, that friend of yours from the drug squad --- Benny, is it?'

'Benny? What about him?' Ray asked, raising his eyebrows. His curiosity was piqued.

'He called in. Said he had some information that might interest CI5.'

'God, if he keeps this up he'll practically be one of us,' said Bodie. 'Maybe you should poach him, sir.'

'I have thought about it,' Cowley replied, nodding. 'We can always use more good men, and Benny's keen. If he serves us well this time I may approach him. That's strictly between us for the moment, though, clear?'

'Sir.'

'Absolutely, sir.'

'Good,' Cowley said curtly.

'But what's Benny got for us this time, sir?' pressed Ray.

'There may be a new player in the drugs for weapons game. A pusher Benny knows -- Ken Gregson; you may know him too, Doyle …'

'Oh, I remember him from the old days,' Ray said, as Bodie, typically, rolled his eyes and looked bored at the reference to his partner's policing past. 'But Ken's small-time, he hasn't got the guts for anything like this!'

'Well, according to your friend, Gregson's set his sights on greener pastures,' Cowley said drily. 'He's set up a meeting with an IRA operative.'

Ray whistled. Even Bodie looked interested.

'So what do we do, sir?' asked Ray.

'You, Doyle, _and_ you, Bodie, will stake out the location of the meeting. Benny knows where, he knows it'll be at ten o'clock in the evening ...'

'But he doesn't know which day, yes, I see, sir.'

'Oh, no,' groaned Bodie. 'Does he have _any_ idea? I mean, how many nights do we have to haunt this place?'

'It will be this week,' said Cowley drily. 'Today's Wednesday, Bodie; that means four, five nights at most. Do you think you can handle that, or should I ask a grown-up to do it?'

'Point taken, sir,' Bodie muttered.

'I'm glad to hear it. Now, you'll need to be at the Blue Cat Club in Soho ...'

'The Blue Cat Club?' repeated Ray. His stomach churned uncomfortably. 'Bloody hell. I walked a beat round there when I was still in uniform. What are they meeting there for?'

'Perhaps they think it's inconspicuous,' said Cowley, with a twinkle in his eye.

'But you know what goes on there ...'

'Yes, Doyle, I am aware.'

'But _we_ don't have to pretend to be ...' Ray couldn't bring himself to say it out loud '... do we?'

'Not necessarily,' Cowley said airily, as if he were enjoying himself immensely. 'Just don't make it obvious that you're _not.'_

'Excuse me,' said Bodie, 'but am I to be allowed the privilege of entering this conversation, or is it members only?'

'The Blue Cat Club is a gay bar, we're staking it out, it's that simple,' Ray snapped.

'All right, keep your curls on, Shirley.'

'Don't push your luck!'

Bodie ignored him, turning back to Cowley.

'Four nights.'

'Less if you're lucky,' the old man replied.

'God. Four nights of being chatted up by ...'

'All in the line of duty, Bodie,' said Cowley. His tone warned them not to object further.

'Permission to break heads if anyone tries it on?' Bodie asked. His voice was harsh and slightly dangerous. He glanced at Ray as he spoke. Ray glanced back. He knew Bodie was reassuring him; it was as plain as if he'd spoken. Ray was torn between feeling insulted that Bodie thought he'd _need_ defending, and a flood of warmth at the reminder that his partner had his back.

 _Love you,_ he thought, and cursed himself.

'Did you hear me? I said permission denied!' Cowley snapped for the second time. 'You will be inconspicuous, do I make myself clear, Bodie!'

'Yes sir,' Bodie replied sullenly.

'You will witness the meeting, follow the conspirators and find out what they're up to. No violence!'

'Sir,' they both answered.

'All right, you can go. Be at that club this evening. Until then, you can scope out the area. Gather information. Talk to Benny: Doyle, you know his haunts. Report back here as soon as you have something for me.’

* * * * *

The day was thoroughly unrewarding, though it was good seeing Benny again. He didn’t know the identity of the IRA man, but he was certain about Gregson. He also told them he’d gone undercover at the Blue Cat Club once, on the trail of a different pusher –- Eric Sutton. Ray remembered him all too well: slippery bastard. Benny had longed to get his hands on him for ages, as had Ray before him. There never seemed to be enough evidence.

'So you two're in there tonight are you?' Benny asked. At the two less-than-enthusiastic nods, he laughed. 'Yeah, well, it's an eye-opener. You've been there before, right, Ray?'

'Yeah,' Ray had muttered. He could feel himself going red, and he could feel Bodie's amused eyes on him. He wished he could stop feeling so sensitive about it, but it was a touchy subject with him lately.

'Watch his back,' Benny had told him, gesturing towards Bodie with a grin. 'They'll love 'im.'

Bodie had looked uncomfortable at the thought. Well he might, Ray considered, as he waited in the car outside Bodie's flat at half past eight that night. It even made him feel funny, and he was ... well, what was he? Bisexual? He reckoned he had about an eighty-twenty female to male preference. Since meeting Bodie had opened the floodgates to what he'd spent nearly ten years suppressing, Ray had occasionally noticed other men, though he hadn't felt anything remotely as strong as what he felt for Bodie. He’d looked, but Bodie was the only man he felt compelled to touch.

‘Maybe I should just go and pick up someone who wants it,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Get it out me system.’

 _Too risky,_ said the voice in his head. _It’d have to be someone you trusted not to drop you in it._

In other words, it could only be Bodie.

Ray puffed out his cheeks, then forced a grin when he saw Bodie walking towards the car. He was looking immaculate as usual, wearing a dove–grey suit and blue silk shirt, but instead of the normal tie, he was wearing a silk scarf at his neck. It made him look slightly flamboyant; it didn’t say _gay_ on its own, but it gave off a suggestion, so in the right setting …

‘Fuckin’ ‘ell, mate, you’re asking for it aren’t you?’ Ray commented, as Bodie got into the car beside him.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ Bodie said mischievously. ‘You look your normal scruffbag self, going for the rough trade look are we? Jeans nice ’n’ tight?’

‘Shut up, Bodie,’ Ray answered, but he said it good-humouredly. He started the car and drove off, Bodie in the passenger seat. Ray made a derogatory remark about his partner’s aftershave; Bodie came back with a comment about natural musk and the disadvantages thereof, and they bantered quite amiably all the way to the club. Ray felt almost cheerful by the time he parked his car.

‘Hey listen, Ray,’ said Bodie. ‘I've been thinking.'

'Careful,' Ray interrupted, but Bodie stoically ignored him.

'D’you want us to pretend we’re a couple or something, avoid the come-ons? I don’t mind if you don't. We’re mates -- won’t kill us to hold hands for an hour.’

 _Might kill me,_ Ray thought miserably. _But won’t it look suspicious if I say no?_

‘Yeah, alright,’ he said reluctantly.

‘Ray,’ Bodie said in a cautious voice. ‘Why are you so funny about being touched?’

‘I’m not,’ Ray said, a tad defensively. Bodie had hit him a little too close to the mark for his liking. ‘I’m … I’m just not as tactile as _you_ are, that’s all.’

‘Tactile?’ Bodie repeated, taking Ray’s arm in an affected manner. ‘Whatever makes you say that, old boy?’

Ray looked down, very deliberately, at Bodie’s arm linked with his. Looking back at Bodie’s face, he raised his eyebrows in mock contempt.

‘Bodie, we are _not_ Wilde and Sinclair.’

‘Nah,’ Bodie said laughingly, ‘we’re far better looking than that lot. Least _I_ am.’

He flicked on the light briefly to look at his watch.

‘Ooh –- it’s nine. Move it, you sarky twit, we’re on.’

‘God, what a nightmare,’ muttered Ray.

The club was in a basement, and its entrance was round the back of the building. Ray led the way down a side street to reach it. A blue neon cat flashed on and off above the door. Pairs of men walked in and out, uninhibited in this more private place, holding hands or with their arms draped around shoulders and waists. Ray felt a stab of longing at the thought of being like that with Bodie. He nearly turned around and punched his partner when Bodie grasped his hips and told him teasingly that he had the walk right. As it was, he halted, gave Bodie a warning look, and leaned close.

‘We’re s'posed to be convincing, aren’t we?’ he whispered. ‘Come on.’

He held out his hand; Bodie took it. It had been a long time since they’d had cause to do this. They never _shook_ hands; it wasn’t their style. A wave or a nudge, or a pat on the back; that was how they said hello and goodbye, if they did at all. So Ray had forgotten what it felt like. Bodie's hand was larger than Ray’s, cooler, and his grip was firm and reassuring. Churned up with emotion as he was, it was all Ray could do not to pull away and run.

They paid 50p each to get into the club. Inevitably, disco music was playing. Sweaty bodies clad in tight trousers and loud polyester shirts undulated under bright, hot lights: men dancing together, or near each other. Ray felt eyes on him, on Bodie. They bored into his back. A hand brushed his arse and he flinched instinctively. He turned to see a good looking, fair-haired man, whose wrist was currently being held too tightly by a murderous-looking Bodie.

‘Leave off him,’ Bodie growled.

‘Oh –- possessive, aren’t we?’ the stranger shot back. His voice was so camp that Ray nearly laughed out loud.

’Too bloody right I am,’ said Bodie. He released the fair man, and placed his hand in the small of Ray’s back, ushering him forward towards the bar.

‘Don’t be conspicuous, Cowley said,’ Ray hissed in Bodie’s ear.

‘If I were your boyfriend it’d be a natural enough reaction,’ Bodie argued.

‘Yeah, you’re right I s’pose,’ said Ray. He allowed himself a small smile and let his head fall briefly to touch Bodie’s shoulder. ‘Thanks, mate.’

Bodie grinned at him. He seemed quite pleased that Ray had initiated however slight a gesture of affection. But for all he knew it could have been part of the act. Ray hoped it would seem that way; he didn't want to give Bodie the wrong -- no, dammit, the _right!_ \-- idea. He detached himself from Bodie as they took seats at the bar. Bodie got the first round of drinks in and they sat for a while, chatting, watching the dancers.

‘I bet that’s good if you like that sort of thing,’ Bodie remarked, indicating a couple grinding against each other in the middle of the dance floor.

‘Well, anything’s good if you like it, innit?’

Ray saw Bodie’s lips move in reply, but the song currently playing phased into another much louder, and he didn’t catch the words.

‘What?’ he shouted, close to Bodie’s ear.

‘Nothing,’ Bodie shouted back quickly.

Ten o’clock came and went, with no sign of the contact whose identity they knew. At eleven they gave it up for the night, and left. As they were turning down the alley to get back to the main thoroughfare, Ray was uncomfortably reminded of his dream: a pair of arms encircled his waist, and a face pressed close to his own.

‘Leaving so soon, sweetheart? I never got the chance to introduce myself.’

It was the fair-haired man again, now considerably drunker, or Ray surmised he never would have dared try anything with Bodie only a few steps behind. Ray felt the stranger’s arousal pressing into his backside. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling –- at least, it wouldn’t have been, had it been Bodie holding him like that. Perhaps it was because of that awareness, or the knowledge that he could easily fight the bloke off if he wanted, or if he couldn't, Bodie would do it for him and then some. But the whole situation tickled Ray's sense of humour. He snorted with laughter and jerked away.

‘Sorry mate, you know I’m with someone,’ he said, grinning. He’d barely finished the sentence when the stranger careered into the nearby wall. Bodie had shoved him. Ray looked from his partner to the blonde, and decided that if he were the latter, he’d be terrified. No words were necessary; the guy simply straightened up, and staggered hastily away. Bodie glowered after him until he was out of sight. He was so intent on staring daggers into the stranger’s back that he didn’t seem to notice Ray laughing. Then he turned to him, and frowned.

‘You find that funny?’ Bodie demanded, his voice rising in outrage. ‘The bastard was groping you! I’d’ve taken him apart!’

‘Against the rules, remember?’ Ray laughed. ‘Don’t look so shocked -– ’s not like I enjoyed it.’

(That was true, anyway.)

‘I wasn’t exactly feeling threatened though, Bodie. I know I could beat the shit out of anyone who really tried it on.’

Bodie looked disconcerted.

‘Have you ever had to?’

'Yeah, once,’ Ray confessed. ‘I asked for it really.'

'Ray, no straight bloke asks for that,’ Bodie told him firmly.

 _Oh fuck,_ thought Ray. _Looks like it’s confession time._

Somewhat to his own surprise, he found he actually _wanted_ Bodie to know. It would be easier, somehow –- it might pave the way to the much worse confession he knew he’d have to make to Bodie later on, if he was to have any hope of putting his feelings behind him and moving on.

'No, er -- I did, actually.' Ray, who almost never blushed, felt himself redden for the second time that day.

Bodie didn’t answer: he just stared at him. His mouth had fallen open, and he looked like a complete idiot, not his usual handsome, unruffled self at all. Ray found himself fighting back a fit of the giggles. Bodie’s flabbergasted reaction had shaken him out of his embarrassment.

'Don't look so shocked!’ he said, grinning at his partner. ‘You're s'posed to be a man of the world aren't you?'

'But ... I thought you were ...'

'What?’ Ray challenged. ‘Why d'you have to put fuckin' labels on everything? I was curious, I tried it, wasn't that impressed, walked away, and my would-be paramour tried to follow me home.'

Bodie ignored the light tone; his forehead creased into a frown and his eyes darkened with concern.

'But you put him off.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement needing confirmation. Ray saw his fists clench.

'Yeah,’ he answered quickly.

'Fuck,’ Bodie muttered. His voice grew louder and more savage as he continued. _’Fuck!_ And you _laughed_ when that bastard touched you just now? If he comes near you again I'll ...'

'Bodie,’ Ray interrupted. ‘I _can_ take care of myself, you know.'

'I know,' Bodie protested. 'Doesn't make me feel any better about it.'

Ray felt a rush of friendly affection for his partner. He laughed, and clapped Bodie on the shoulder.

‘You're a good mate.’

Bodie smiled grudgingly.

 _So what do I do?_ Ray thought. _Leave it here? Or ruin a nice moment?_

He was on the latter course before the thought had finished processing.

'So what's your story, anyway?’ he asked, with affected casualness. ‘You ever tried it?'

Bodie looked first startled, then sullen, at the question.

'What do you think?’ he muttered.

'Honestly? I'd say from your reaction just now that either you're a narrow-minded bigot, or someone's tried to force it on you.'

'What would you rather believe?'

'Don't mess with me, Bodie,’ Ray said firmly. ‘I told you mine, you tell me yours.'

'Sounds like you've already got a pretty good idea of what you _think_ happened,’ said Bodie.

Ray didn’t answer; he stood and watch the play of thoughts across Bodie’s face. He bared his teeth, his nostrils flared, and his frown deepened. Then he rolled his eyes, seemingly resolved.

‘Alright, you want to know, I'll tell you,’ he said, in a voice ripe with aggression. ‘After I left Krivas' mob, I did a spot of gun-running in the Congo. Got caught, well, I was still just a kid, basically. Reckless, stupid, working alone for the first time -- bad combination. Anyway, the short of it is, they sent me to rot in a stinking jail cell for the term of my natural life.'

Bodie’s words took Ray by surprise. His stomach lurched. He felt a horrible wave of pain as he imagined what his partner must have gone through. Shocked and feeling ill, Ray brought his hand to his mouth.

'God, Bodie.'

Bodie was obviously touched by Ray’s reaction, because his next expression was fond amusement.

'Well I survived, didn't I sunshine?' he said gently.

'At what cost? I take it it was there that you ...'

'Couple of the other prisoners tried it on, yeah. One of the guards, too. They never succeeded though. Me virtue's intact, mate.'

Ray was too relieved for the moment to do anything but nod. When Bodie didn’t say anything else, the silence started to become awkward.

'How did you get out?' Ray asked finally.

'Escaped, didn't I?’ Bodie said lightly. ‘And the next time I landed a job, I _didn't_ get caught. Couple of years after that I came home, joined the Paras. You know the rest.'

'Some of it, yeah.'

Ray knew straightaway that he’d said the wrong thing. Bodie was looking angry again, as if the words implied an invasion of privacy.

'Look, Ray, talking about this shit isn't easy, you know.'

'I'm sorry,’ Ray said quickly, and Bodie softened again.

'Ah, it's OK.'

They stood there looking at each other, barely noticing the couple who passed between them. Ray was becoming aware that they might look odd. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to them than they had already, but he also didn’t want to end the conversation here. He needed to reassure Bodie that he wasn’t just being nosy.

'Bodie.'

Bodie raised his eyebrows.

'If, er … if you ever want to talk any more …'

Bodie’s expression became frustrated, and a little dangerous.

'Curiosity killing the cat?’ he sneered. ‘Look, Doyle ...'

'I didn't mean that,’ Ray qualified hastily. ‘I meant if you _needed_ to talk, I'd be here, that's all.’

For a second or two, Bodie looked mutinous. But something in Ray’s words or manner must have won him over, because his face softened again, and he put his arm around Ray, squeezing his shoulders as he gently steered him down the alley. He didn’t hold onto him for more than a few seconds, but while he did, the rare softness of the gesture cut Ray to the core. He wanted to throw caution to the wind, and himself straight into Bodie’s arms. But of course, he didn’t dare. He just walked, and gritted his teeth, and suffered in silence. He felt marginally calmer by the time they got into the car.

And it only took Bodie four words to shatter it.

'What's it like, anyway?'

Ray gave him a swift, sharp look.

'What's what like?'

'With a bloke. When both parties consent, I mean. How far d'you get before it put you off?'

‘Oh,’ said Ray, without meeting his eyes. ‘Not far. Just a bit of bump and grind, bit of touching. Fully clothed, mind. It's alright. 'S not like it didn't get me going, get anyone going I reckon.'

'Why d'you stop, then?' Bodie asked.

'Dunno,’ said Ray, as he put the key into the ignition. ‘Just felt a bit nothing. Felt like I'd regret it. I didn't fancy the guy or anything.'

'Have you _ever_ fancied a guy?' Bodie demanded, in a tone of astounded fascination. Doyle raised his eyebrow. Somehow, even though the conversation was hurting him, he felt a strange satisfaction from shocking his partner.

'Yeah. Sometimes. Don't get me wrong, though; it's not often. I don't go round scoping blokes out, and if I _do_ happen to see something I like, I don't act on it. I've never tried -– that -– again.'

'Would you ever?'

Ray nearly gasped out loud. If it wasn’t his imagination, the look in Bodie’s eyes was … no, it couldn’t be invitation. No! He had to be reading too much into it; it had to be wishful thinking … he narrowed his eyes, hoping Bodie wouldn’t notice that his hands had started shaking.

'Why, you interested?' he asked, in what he hoped was an offhand tone.

Bodie’s eyebrow went up.

'What if I was?'

 _I’d dance for joy,_ Ray thought miserably.

'I dunno,’ he said aloud, with a shrug. ‘Wouldn't want to fuck us up as partners.'

'What if we weren't partners?'

_Damn you, Bodie …_

'Are you asking me if I fancy you?'

Bodie’s expression was downright sheepish now, but he gamely kept eye contact.

'Well yeah, alright, I am.'

'Bodie, if I say yes and you punch me, I won't go easy on you,’ Ray warned. Bodie put up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

'I'm not going to punch you! I’m just curious. Do you ...'

Angry and upset, and backed into a corner, Ray gave his partner a desperate look, telling himself to stay casual, willing himself not to let his guard down and tell Bodie everything. If this was going where he _thought_ it was going … that wasn’t good. His feelings for Bodie went deeper than just a fling, and they certainly went deeper than one experience to satisfy his partner’s curiosity. But for all that, he still felt compelled to be honest.

 _’Course_ I do,’ he confessed. Look at you. Who wouldn't?'

Bodie grimaced. He looked embarrassed. Oddly enough it gave Ray confidence. He smiled at his discomfited partner.

'It's no good going all coy on me, Bodie. I know you're under no illusions about your looks. What about me then, eh? If I tried it on would you go for it?'

Very deliberately, Bodie looked him up and down.

'You're stunning and you know it.'

'Do I?'

'You should,’ said Bodie, smirking at him. ‘But I don't know if I'd go for it with any bloke. I just -- don't know.'

Ray nodded thoughtfully to buy himself time. In the few seconds that passed before he replied to Bodie, he considered the situation very carefully. At Bodie’s indecision, he felt an equal mix of profound relief and crushing disappointment. The fact was, his feelings for Bodie were equal parts love and lust. Even the love part wasn’t soft and romantic; it was like the lust: fierce and passionate and, while unrequited, _desperate._ An overwhelming need to be touched, caressed, kissed and licked and … _oh God,_ Ray pleaded with himself, _don’t start thinking about that, please!_ … mingled with another need, to have and to hold, and _be_ held, to cling to Bodie when he needed comfort or affection, to be able to offer Bodie the same in return. But even together, the two feelings weren’t _everything_ he had for his partner. Ray loved him as a friend, too. And he was reminded of the voice that had spoken in his head earlier, the one that sounded so much like Bodie. It had talked about risk, and Ray had considered trust. He’d only try it with a man he trusted with his life, and the only man who fitted that bill was Bodie. And if Bodie wanted him -– or _thought_ he wanted him -– or _wanted to know_ if he wanted him –- Ray owed it to him, as the only man _Bodie_ trusted, to let him satisfy his curiosity.

'Well if you decide you want to give it a go, just ask,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I'll pretend we never had this conversation.'

'Right.’ Bodie nodded slowly. ‘Probably best. Yeah, you’re right, Ray. Come on. Let’s go home.’

Having steeled himself to make one sacrifice for his partner, Ray found it easier to regulate his behaviour. The last thing he wanted was to leave any awkwardness between them to fester overnight. He swallowed a few times to banish the dryness from his mouth and throat, thought of the silliest joke he’d heard lately, and launched into it. The joke made Bodie groan, but he came back with another, and by the time they reached Bodie’s flat they were laughing and singing a drinking song, and making plans to have a boozy night in front of the TV on Saturday night, if the bloody op deigned to be over.

‘Night, sunshine,’ said Bodie, and rapped the side of Ray’s thigh with his knuckles by way of a goodbye. With a grin, he got out of the car and disappeared into his building. Ray sighed heavily, feeling exhausted. Driving back to his own place, he allowed his imagination to run freely. He imagined Bodie’s knuckles tapping him again, but the hand didn’t leave his thigh. It turned over. In Ray’s fantasy Bodie’s palm stroked him, running from his knee to his crotch. Ray felt himself harden, as he had countless times in the past few months, at the thought of Bodie’s touch. He drove faster, needing to get home. When he reached his flat he hurried inside, stripping off his clothes on the way to the bathroom, and threw himself into a hot shower. He stayed there until the water ran cold, wanking himself into a daze, softly moaning Bodie’s name.

* * * * *

The next day, Ray and Bodie reported to Cowley that nothing had happened. He hadn’t heard anything either, so he sent them off to amuse themselves until the evening, under strict instructions that they were on standby. Ray went home and worked on his motorbike, then he and Bodie met up for dinner at a restaurant they’d both wanted to try. Ray found himself disturbingly image-conscious as he showered the day’s grime away and got ready to go out. Finding Bodie not absolutely averse to male attention made Ray wonder if he could tempt him. He put on a pair of tight, moss-green trousers, and tucked a black shirt into them. He left one more button than usual undone, fastened a chain around his neck, and wore aftershave. Bodie arrived wearing a similar outfit to last night, but if it wasn’t Ray’s imagination, his trousers were slightly tighter, too.

 _If we’re trying to impress each other_ … Ray thought, but that made him feel rather panicky, so he pushed it away.

That night, they were more relaxed – for Ray’s part, their conversation of the night before made him feel better about the situation they were putting themselves into. They had a good meal and a good chat at the restaurant, and arrived at the club just before nine.

‘Hey,’ Bodie spoke cheekily into his ear, when they were at the bar –- first round Ray’s this time –- and watching out for Gregson. ‘Any of these blokes your type?’

‘Bodie!’ Ray protested laughingly, punching his partner in the arm.

‘I’m just curious is all,’ said Bodie. ‘I’m not judging you, you know that.’

‘Erm –- well.’ Ray looked at the men dancing. None of them could hold a candle to Bodie, but he saw one man who was the right type: tall, dark and broad-shouldered. He was dancing with a slim black man with afro hair and a white suit. As subtly as possible, Ray pointed them out.

‘He’s alright I s’pose. The taller one. It doesn’t really occur to me to look though, Bodie. It’s not something I think about much.’

‘OK. Honestly, I was just curious.’

‘What about you?’ Ray asked.

‘Oh God, I dunno,’ said Bodie. ‘They all look the same to me out there.’

He turned away from the dance floor and nursed his pint. Ray kept a lookout for Gregson, but yet again he didn’t arrive. Nor was there anyone acting suspiciously, no one who could have been the unidentified IRA man. Unless he was _very_ good at blending into a crowd. Ray got so bored, and so tired of fighting his arousal at the sight of the dancers, that he nearly took the foolish plunge of asking Bodie to dance, just to shake things up a bit. He might have, too, if he hadn’t been afraid Bodie would say yes. He needed time to adjust to this slight – and he knew it was _slight_ –- development. He couldn’t be sure he’d stay in control. He was terrified he’d lose himself, pour his heart out to his partner the moment Bodie’s arms were around him. If they ever got that far.

‘Tell you what,’ said Bodie, when he’d ordered them both another drink. ‘If this git doesn’t turn up by this time tomorrow night, I dare you to get on the dance floor.’

‘What, on me own?’ Ray asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement.

‘No, cretin. With me.’

‘With you …?’ Ray bit his lip. ‘Oh, I dunno, Bodie.’

Bodie sighed irritably.

‘Fine.’

Ray glanced sideways at him. Before his face returned to its usual mask of indifference, Ray caught a look of surprise and disappointment on Bodie’s face. For a second, he’d looked like a teenager asking a girl out for the first time and getting rejected. Ray frowned. Had Bodie been coming onto him? Surely not. He didn’t trust himself to read the situation right. It was too good to be true. But -– worth testing? Maybe?

‘This time tomorrow night,’ Ray repeated.

Bodie looked back at him. His lips curled upwards in a smirk.

‘Yep.’ Consulting his watch, he added, ‘ten-thirty.’

‘OK,’ said Ray, affecting a nonchalant shrug. ‘Can’t do any harm, can it?’

Bodie’s answering look was humorous; he made his eyes big and shook his head, then grinned and looked away. Ray turned his head in the opposite direction before he allowed himself to smile in return. His heart was hammering in his chest, but it was anticipation, not worry, that he was feeling now.

* * * * *

Ray slept late the next day, and was woken at eleven o’clock by Bodie calling him on his R/T. Benny wanted to meet. Bodie was on his way to pick Ray up. The squealing of tyres announced his arrival just as Ray was pulling on his boots. He hastened down to the car and jumped in, and Bodie sped away.

‘Morning,’ Bodie said, when they were on the move.

‘Hello,’ replied Ray, though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said that to his partner, if he ever had. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Club in Soho,’ said Bodie. ‘A _different_ club in Soho this time. We’re meeting Benny at a certain lunchtime strip show. For some reason he thinks we need to look at naked women!’

‘Ha -- I wonder why that could be?’

‘Can’t imagine.’

An hour later, they were sitting in the middle of a row of empty seats, drinking beer, watching a brunette strutting around wearing a pink feather boa and increasingly little else. Around them, middle-aged men in copious overcoats sat slumped in their seats with their collars turned up, gawping at the action.

‘God, Ray, if I ever end up like that, shoot me,’ said Bodie.

‘Why would you end up like that?’ asked Ray.

‘Well I’m hardly the marrying kind, am I? And if I got old and fat and couldn’t pull the birds any more … ugh.’ He shuddered. ‘Mind you, with this job I probably won’t make fifty. Maybe not even forty.’

‘Don’t,’ Ray said sharply. Bodie looked at him, frowned slightly, and lapsed into silence. Their brief moment of eye contact spoke volumes. Before either of them had the chance to change the subject, Benny did it for them.

‘Alright lads!’ he greeted them cheerfully, sliding into the seat beside Ray. ‘What d’you make of the venue? Nice eh? Cheers!’

He raised his pint with a grin and drank deeply from it, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his denim jacket. Then he settled down to watch the show, offering the occasional suggestive remark, clapping and cheering loudly when one girl finished her act and the next one came on. Then when it finished, he stood up.

‘Nice to see you. We should grab a pint at my local soon. You should see the barmaid –- bloody hell, she’s in the wrong profession. With her knockers she’d go down a treat here.’

He put out his right hand to shake Ray’s, and he clapped Bodie on the shoulder with his left. When he pulled away and slouched amiably out of the room, he left a piece of folded paper in Ray’s hand. Ray put the paper into his jacket pocket and jerked his head towards the door. He left the club, and Bodie followed him.

‘Where are we going now?’ asked Bodie, as they got into the car.

‘HQ,’ said Ray. ‘Whatever this is, Cowley probably ought to see it.’

‘Well open it, then!’ Bodie said impatiently.

‘Alright.’

Doyle unfolded the paper and read aloud:

_“K. Gregson = N. O’Rourke. 9PM BCC 0810.”_

‘Nine o’clock, BCC …’ Bodie repeated.

‘… Blue Cat Club …’

‘Nought–eight–one–nought … what’s that mean?’

‘Er. The date?’

‘Oh yeah, course it is. That’s tonight,’ said Bodie. ‘Ha – brilliant! Good on you Benny! We’ll get this whole thing wrapped up, turn in our report on Saturday morning, fob off the old man about needing the weekend off to recuperate, pub lunch, then what d’you think? Spot of fishing? See if there’s anything on at the pictures? Anything but that bike of yours, mate. Then fish ’n’ chips, back to your place for _Match of the Day_ like we talked about?’

Ray tried to share Bodie’s enthusiasm. But all he could think about was the invitation to dance – and now it was as if it had never happened.

* * * * *

‘O’Rourke,’ said Cowley, with Benny’s note unfolded in his hand. ‘Betty!’

Cowley’s secretary, whom Bodie had been sleeping with on a casual basis until she started seeing a stockbroker two weeks ago, bustled into the office.

‘Get me what we have on Ned O’Rourke.’

‘Yes sir,’ said Betty, and left the room again. For once, Bodie’s eyes didn’t follow her out. He seemed lost in thought. No one said a word until Betty came back in with the file. Cowley thanked her, and opened it, pulling out two photographs. One showed a dark-haired young man with small, close-set eyes and a strong jaw. The other showed the same man, but older, grizzled, with a long scar on his right cheek and an eyepatch on the same side.

‘Edward Fitzgerald O’Rourke. IRA sniper since the age of sixteen. Five years ago he was captured by a group of Unionist extremists who put out his right eye and cut him from ear to chin.’

‘Nasty,’ remarked Bodie.

‘Indeed,’ said Cowley. ‘The IRA never forgave him for the information he was forced to pass on. Someone convinced them he’d turned spy for the other side, and he was forced to go into hiding. But now he’s back. According to Special Branch, he’s joined up with a breakaway republican cell, here, in London. They’ve been recruiting members in Kilburn for the past year, covertly competing with the IRA. Now, apparently, they’re planning something. We don’t know what, yet, but if he’s supplying Ken Gregson with drugs, it’s obviously going to be soon.’

‘So why us now, sir?’ asked Ray. ‘Aren’t we treading on Special Branch’s toes?’

‘Special Branch don’t know we’re onto it yet,’ said Cowley. ‘Benny called _us,_ Doyle. Probably because he knows you. Once we’ve got Gregson and O’Rourke, I’ll be obliged to share the fact. But until then, I’d like to keep the minimum number of cooks stirring this particular broth.’

‘So we bring them in,’ said Ray.

‘Yes. And with all bones and teeth intact, if you’d be so kind.’

‘Sir.’

* * * * *

At eight-thirty, Ray and Bodie arrived at the Blue Cat Club for the third night in a row. At five to nine, Ken Gregson arrived. He looked more furtive than was strictly good for him, and he awkwardly put off the advances of Ray’s fair-haired friend of Wednesday night, who studiously avoided his and Bodie’s eyes. At nine o’clock, Ned O’Rourke entered the club. He was better at being inconspicuous, which was perhaps unsurprising as he’d been in hiding, but quite a feat considering the eyepatch.

‘Ah, it’s the I – Arrr – A man,’ Ray whispered to Bodie, who snickered and called him a twit.

O’Rourke accepted an invitation to dance – he wasn’t bad, Ray thought – then when the song was over, he joined an increasingly nervous-looking Gregson at the bar.

‘Join me on the dance floor?’ he asked.

‘I know somewhere we can talk in private,’ Gregson hissed back.

‘Easy there, sweetheart, we just met,’ O’Rourke quipped. With a dangerous look in his good eye that said everything his words and tone couldn’t –- _if we leave immediately we look conspicuous, so play along or else_ –- he crooned, ‘Let’s dance.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Gregson protested. He was breaking out in a sweat. Ray, seeing an opening, glanced at Bodie to let him know he had a plan, and got down from his barstool.

‘I’ll dance with you if he won’t,’ he said, putting his hand on his hip and giving O’Rourke a flirtatious look when the Irishman turned to see who’d spoken. ‘Don’t see his problem meself.’

‘Sorry, love, you’re not my type,’ O’Rourke answered bluntly. He started to turn away.

‘OK, what about my friend here?’ Ray indicated Bodie.

‘You gonna make me settle for one of these two?’ O’Rourke asked Gregson. The pusher’s damp face took on a resigned look.

‘Course not,’ he said.

‘You ’n’ me then?’ Ray asked Bodie, who nodded, and took the hand Ray offered to him. They walked out onto the dance floor before O’Rourke and Gregson left the bar.

‘Sorry,’ Ray said. ‘I know we weren’t going to do this unless they didn’t turn up, but it seems like we have to now.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Bodie. ‘Fuck, how d’you dance with a fella, anyway? Who leads?’

‘God you’re old-fashioned,’ Ray laughed. ‘Just dance close, that’s all this lot are doing.’

‘OK,’ said Bodie. ‘Look – the other night, you said it’d get _anyone_ going, right?’

‘Bodie. I’m not going to try and take advantage of you if you suddenly seem to be enjoying my company more than usual,’ Ray said, in the patient tones of one addressing a small child. ‘You know how I feel about all this. Ball’s in your court, mate.’

It felt good to get that out in the open. Bodie seemed reassured, too – and as his arms encircled Ray’s waist, drawing him in close, Ray nearly forgot to keep his eye on Gregson and O’Rourke, who were walking onto the dance floor.

‘Ha. Poor old Ken,’ he said, as he and Bodie began to sway together in time to the music, and the two conspirators settled awkwardly into each other’s arms.

‘Let’s just make our way sideways, shall we?’ Ray muttered in Bodie’s ear. He spun around, insinuating his back against Bodie’s front, and moved them slightly closer to Gregson and O’Rourke at the same time. Bodie grasped his hips with both hands; Ray reached up and snaked one arm around Bodie’s neck. He looked at his partner’s flushed face, felt the beginnings of arousal pressing into his backside, and he did something he knew he shouldn’t. He moved against Bodie, purposely rubbing him up and down. Bodie breathed in sharply.

‘God, Ray, you weren’t kidding, were you?’ he whispered, grinding back. Ray looked into Bodie’s eyes, saw the lust there, and nearly lost himself. He turned around again before he could forget why they were there, dancing backwards, pulling Bodie with him until they were within earshot of the conspirators.

‘… got the stuff?’ Gregson hissed.

‘Right here,’ O’Rourke replied impatiently. ‘Where are the items?’

‘Well I could hardly put them in me pockets, could I? They’re at a lockup about a mile from here. I’ll take you there.’

‘Alright. Let’s go.’

They left the dance floor without looking back. When they were at the door of the club, Ray and Bodie started to follow. Bodie reached for Ray’s hand; whether he was doing it for the act or other reasons, Ray neither knew nor cared. He squeezed his partner’s hand and they walked swiftly after their quarry, who were disappearing fast down the alley. A quick mutual glance told them it was now or never. Breaking into a trot, they each caught one of the conspirators by his shoulder, spinning them around.

‘You’re nicked, _love,’_ Ray said venomously, showing O’Rourke his badge. The next thing he knew, O’Rourke’s heel had slammed down on his foot. He lunged away, but Ray tackled him, and they both crashed to the ground. O’Rourke fought dirty, but Ray knew a greater variety of techniques. It wasn’t long before he had O’Rourke on his front, arms wrenched behind his back, and he’d slapped the cuffs on the Irishman’s wrists. Bodie, meanwhile, had a jumpy-looking Ken Gregson by both his skinny upper arms. He hadn't put up nearly so much of a fight. With another glance, the two agents shared a silent moment of triumph. Then they marched their captives to Bodie’s car, and Bodie drove swiftly to HQ.

They spent the rest of the night leaning on Gregson and O’Rourke separately. Ray was with Cowley, interrogating O’Rourke, and they got nowhere. O’Rourke had seen and experienced worse than even Cowley was willing to put him through, and they couldn’t make him say a word that night. But Gregson was another matter. Bodie enlisted the help of Murphy, a recent addition to CI5, and they played “good cop bad cop” until the nervous pusher talked. He gave them everything he knew about the terror operations, which admittedly wasn’t much, but he did reveal the location of his lockup.

‘Fuck, I wish they were all that easy,’ said Ray, when Bodie told him about it on the way to pick up the weapons. ‘Gregson was preying on school kids when I was in drugs. He did time for that. Obviously he was moving on to greater things and couldn’t handle it. Lucky for us, though.’

‘Very lucky,’ said Bodie. ‘What’s Cowley doing with O’Rourke?’

‘Handing him over to Special Branch,’ said Ray. ‘I wish them joy of ‘im.’

‘No particular desire to wrap up the case yourself, then?’ Bodie asked.

‘What, and miss the chance of a weekend? An actual weekend?’ Ray grinned. ‘No way, mate. They don’t come round nearly often enough. I leaned on the old man though, and he said we could have it. Provided we get our report in by tomorrow morning, we don’t have to come back till Monday.’

Bodie looked delighted.

‘Aha, yes! Like I said isn’t it?’ he said, grinning at Ray. ‘This time tomorrow night we’ll be relaxing in front of the telly. Seems appealing after three nights out like we’ve had.’

Again, it was like there had never been a dance floor at the Blue Cat Club. But maybe that was better anyway, Ray reflected. Maybe they’d got too close for comfort …

The trouble was, it had felt all _too_ comfortable.

* * * * *

Their evening in front of the TV proved satisfactory. They got tipsy during _The Basil Brush Show,_ which proved an interesting novelty for both of them. They argued about whether the spaceship in the wide shots of _Doctor Who_ was a Fairy liquid bottle or a mixture of papier maché and milk bottle tops. Then Doyle half-smothered Bodie with a cushion to stop him singing along to the theme from the _Generation Game,_ and they switched to ITV for a while. They switched back to BBC in time for the end of _Starsky and Hutch_ \-- 'Do blokes really behave like that in America?' Bodie asked in astonishment -- and the start of Match of the Day.

Liverpool won their game, so Bodie was happy. He seemed restless once the show was over, though: pacing around Ray’s flat and poking his nose into things. He obviously didn’t feel ready to go home -– not that Ray wanted him to, but he had no idea how to ask him to stay. He was getting desperate for something to talk about that didn’t feel forced, when Bodie fortunately discovered a half-forgotten book of cocktail recipes on Ray’s bookshelf, jammed in between a dirty book and a copy of Sartre’s _Nausea_ that had been due back at the public library in 1973 -– and Ray still hadn’t finished it. Bodie had a penchant for colourful drinks with umbrellas in them, and Ray felt pretty sure that he had some cocktail umbrellas somewhere, because he’d been given them as a present by the same girlfriend who’d given him the cocktail book. He went searching for them while Bodie raided his larder, which was fortunately well stocked for once.

‘I can’t believe we’re actually going to use these,’ said Ray, returning to his kitchen with the cocktail umbrellas, packaging intact. ‘In fact I can’t believe you made me look for them. They don’t make the drinks taste any better, you know.’

‘Ha! And you, an artist!’ Bodie said melodramatically, pretending to be hurt. ‘You need to learn to appreciate the _aesthetics_ of a situation.’

‘Ah, you found my thesaurus too!’ quipped Ray.

‘Thesaurus this,’ Bodie replied, sticking up two fingers. ‘Come on, drink.’

He handed Ray a tall glass. Whatever the cocktail was, it was a radioactive-looking green. And it tasted good –- barely alcoholic at all. More like fruit juice. Perhaps that was why Ray drank it too fast, and didn’t hesitate to accept the next one. It was an electric blue punch, and it tasted disgusting.

‘Ugh -- failure!’ said Ray, with a face that made Bodie laugh. ‘Next.’

The next one was a healthier-looking yellow. Since they’d already emptied a good few cans of beer between them, and weren’t particularly keen on vomiting, they decided to take it slowly. They returned to Ray’s couch and flicked through the TV channels. They caught the end of the BBC weather forecast before everything stopped for the night.

'What now?' Ray asked through a yawn. He stretched, then stopped, seeing Bodie watching him. For some reason, probably just because he was drunk, it annoyed him.

'What?' he snapped.

Bodie rolled his eyes. 'You know what.'

Then his hand was on Ray’s thigh. His touch was gentle, but to Ray it was like an electric shock. His cock hardened instantly at Bodie’s touch, the touch he’d fantasised about for so long … but all he could think of was _no, no, I can’t let this happen, not while he’s pissed, he’ll regret it and we won’t be able to look each other in the eye again_ … Ray jumped to his feet without really being aware of doing it: it was an instinctive reaction.

‘Oh God – sorry, mate.’ Bodie said quickly. He stood up and laid a hand on Ray’s shoulder. ‘It’s just what you said last night, the b…'

He was abruptly cut off, as Ray, unable to resist his partner any longer, came forward and kissed him. But Bodie let out a high-pitched ‘Mmm!’ of surprise, and broke the kiss, shoving Ray backwards. He looked shocked and angry; his mouth had fallen open, and his eyes -- Ray found it hard to look at them. He felt a horrible, sickening wave of guilt, disappointment and confusion. He'd been so sure he had the signals right. You couldn't get much more obvious than the way Bodie had touched him.

'What?' he demanded.

'What do you _think?'_ retorted Bodie. 'You _kissed_ me!'

Ray folded his arms, glaring.

'I'll remind you just who made the first move here!'

'Not like THAT!'

'Oh, for fuck's sake, what's the difference?'

'What's the ...'

Bodie trailed off in despair, but then he seemed to be thinking. His brow furrowed in a deep frown. Ray could see the cogs turning in his head, but wasn’t sure what the result was going to be. Then, without warning, Bodie exhaled sharply, closed the distance between them and fastened his lips to Ray's, pushing his tongue insistently between them. For a few seconds, Ray felt nothing but hot arousal ... he almost surrendered ... but outrage stopped him. He couldn't let Bodie get away with this, not after the way he'd just reacted -- not after the way that reaction had made Ray feel. Arousal turned to anger; Ray pushed Bodie away and slugged him in the jaw, not hard enough to knock him out, just enough to teach him a lesson. Caught off guard, Bodie staggered backwards, sitting down abruptly on the coffee table, which creaked ominously beneath his not inconsiderable weight. He stared at Ray incredulously. Ray stared back. He saw a new reaction: the hardness between Bodie’s legs. His arousal was as obvious as Ray’s own.

 _'That_ turned you on?' Ray asked, fighting a grin.

Bodie's cheeks went slightly pink, but he managed a wry smile.

'Obviously.'

Ray smiled back. He walked over and extended his hand to Bodie, helping him to his feet. Then, hands on hips, he looked Bodie up and down very deliberately, pleased that he finally had the freedom to do so openly.

'Very nice,' he said. 'Alright, your turn. Hit me.'

'What?' Bodie looked startled.

'Come on. I want to know what it's like.'

'You've been punched before!'

'So've you, but I've never seen you get a hard-on from it. Hit me, come on.'

Bodie looked bewildered, but he shrugged in acquiescence, and his fist connected with the left side of Ray's face. Ray staggered like Bodie had, but he just managed to keep his footing. Breathing heavily, he stared at his partner, whose fists were still clenched. Then he charged Bodie, grabbing him round the neck, trying to wrestle him to the floor. Bodie stood his ground and pushed back hard, finally managing to disentangle himself from Ray’s grip. Then they came forward again, meeting each other halfway, hungrily seeking each other’s mouths, arms pulling each other close, groins colliding hard, almost painfully -- which for Ray quickly gave way to pleasure and aching need as they moved against each other. From the way Bodie moaned into his mouth, he felt the same.

But then Bodie broke free, and stared at Ray again. This time he looked more amazed than angry. And a little appalled, too.

‘Bloody hell!’ he said, through kiss-swollen lips. ‘That’s _good!’_

Ray’s eyebrows went up, and he grinned.

'Want more?'

Bodie reached for him again. Ray got lost in the sensation of Bodie's mouth on his, Bodie's tongue exploring him intimately, Bodie's hands possessively clutching his arse. But after a few minutes of this, he came back to himself with a twinge of frustration: how long was Bodie going to be content with just kissing? He was obviously as nervous as he was wanting. Ray wondered how to break through that without making him feel rushed. Hitting on an idea, he pushed his hips suggestively against his partner and moved his head sideways, his lips level with Bodie's left ear.

'Hey,' he whispered. 'Let's put some music on. Dance a bit. What d'you say?'

'OK,' Bodie agreed, but for a second he seemed even more worried. It was rare to see him look that vulnerable. Ray wondered if Bodie realised what sort of dancing he had in mind -- did he think they were stepping back, not forward? He gave his partner a reassuring smile.

'Don't move, I'll be right back.'

He left Bodie in the middle of the room and went to his stereo, wondering what to put on. He didn't own anything like what they'd danced to at the club. He bent over to examine album covers.

'Hey,' Bodie interrupted his thoughts. To Ray's relief, his voice was light, teasing.

'What?'

'Anyone ever tell you you've got a fantastic arse?'

'I may have heard suggestions in that direction,' Ray replied cryptically. As a matter of fact, 'suggestions' was right: he'd never been complimented quite so directly on that particular asset. He rather liked it. He grinned over his shoulder at Bodie.

'Anyone ever tell you you've got eyes to die for?'

'Frequently,' Bodie said, as immodestly as Ray would have expected. He laughed, and concentrated on choosing some music. He settled on Led Zeppelin's _The Ocean._ He could imagine dancing with Bodie to that, preferably in a way that was publicly unacceptable.

'Ray. Anyone ever tell you how sexy your mouth is?'

'I've heard rumours,' Ray answered, straightening up to put the record on.

'That's _Houses of the Holy,'_ Bodie said, pointing to the album cover.

'Ha, ha, ha,' said Ray, as he took the record out of its sleeve.

'Ray.'

'Yeah?'

'Nice to be able to say what we really think, isn't it?'

Ray's answering smile was rueful, and for good reason. Christ, if he told Bodie what he _really_ thought … but he answered 'Yeah,' all the same.

'Obviously,' said Bodie, 'you can flatter me outrageously any time you like.'

Ray laughed as he put the record on the turntable. 'Bodie.'

'What?'

Ray positioned the needle over the groove of the record and pushed it down, just catching the fadeout of _No Quarter._ He walked towards Bodie, beckoning him with one finger.

'C'mere.'

_'We've done four already but now we're steady and then they went, one, two, three, four!'_

Bodie gasped as Ray latched onto him, grabbing his buttocks and shoving his crotch insistently forward in time to the music.

 _'Your_ arse isn't so bad either,' Ray said huskily. 'And as for … mmph!'

Bodie wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed him, his mouth and tongue rough and aggressive. Ray could feel them both growing harder: whether that was the effect of the kiss or the dirty dancing, he neither knew nor cared. He just kept moving, kept thrusting his pelvis and gyrating his hips and grinding his aching erection against his partner's. Bodie was doing the same, and they were laughing and kissing and moaning and breathing outrageous words of encouragement into each other's ears. It was heaven. But if Bodie kept thrusting against him like that, it wasn't going to last …

 _'Oh_ yeah,' Bodie breathed, as the song shifted into its final section. 'Ray, don't stop, will you? Oh God.'

'What was that? Stop?' Ray teased, because his own crescendo was starting to build, and he didn't want things to end this soon. He twisted out of Bodie's grasp and danced alone for a few seconds, spinning on the spot, swinging his arms, wiggling his arse, posing for all he was worth. He laughed as Bodie grabbed him from behind.

 _'Oh, it's so good …'_ the voice on the record proclaimed, as the song came to an end, and the needle lifted itself off the record.

Unheeding of the silence, Ray ground back against Bodie like he had at the club. Now they were alone, the feel of Bodie's hard cock against his arse was too much. Seized with a sudden, uncontrollable desire, he grabbed his partner's collar and shoved him hard up against the nearest wall. Ray's mouth plundered Bodie’s smooth, white neck, and his hands went for Bodie's belt buckle. It took him a minute to realise that Bodie had stopped responding. He looked -- not uncomfortable exactly, but rather dazed. Ray remembered what Bodie had said about his past, and wondered whether to stop what he was doing. Was Bodie having flashbacks? But no; he didn't look afraid, and he hadn't actually said _stop._ And he'd wanted Ray enough a moment ago, so ...

Bodie looked down, watching open-mouthed as Ray swiftly divested him of his trousers, pausing to yank off his shoes and socks at the same time. Bodie's legs were white and well-shaped and powerful-looking -- like the rest of him. Ray would never have believed he could find hairy, muscular legs so attractive, but the sight of them made his own legs feel decidedly wobbly. He wanted this man so much it made him dizzy. Most enticingly of all, Bodie was wearing black briefs, and they were currently much too tight. Ray could clearly see the outline of his engorged genitals through the material, and he ached to touch, to know what it would feel like, to confirm that it was as right and natural as it seemed to be. But he was still mindful of his partner's feelings.

He looked up, meeting Bodie's eyes, and was troubled by what he saw there. He gave him what he hoped was a sympathetic look, hoping he didn't appear patronising. It felt a bit like being seventeen again, coaxing an inexperienced schoolgirl, because that was what you did; you were tentative and nice, you let them believe you cared … only now he was thirty-one years old, he was with a man of virtually his own age and experience, and he _did_ care. More than he'd ever cared for anyone. He was certain of that now. He wanted this to be good for Bodie, as much as he wanted it for himself. They were both new to this particular kind of experience. And as Ray knew all too well, even tough guys got nervous sometimes.

‘You sure you want this?’ he asked gently.

‘Not sure I _want_ to want it,’ confessed Bodie.

‘But you do?’

Bodie's eyes were wide, his pupils large and black, as he nodded. ‘I do.’

Ray smiled a little. He kissed Bodie on the cheek, then bent his head to rest it against Bodie's shoulder. He wanted to throw his arms around him, but he knew that would be too much. Bodie wanted him, but that didn’t mean he felt the same. For now, this would be enough – _had_ to be enough.

‘Tell me what to do, Bodie,’ he said softly, his lips grazing Bodie's upturned jaw.

Bodie was silent for a few seconds, breathing raggedly. Then he sighed.

‘Touch me,’ he murmured. ‘Ray ...’

Ray extended his index finger and rubbed Bodie’s cock through his underwear. Bodie gasped and closed his eyes. Ray kept up his tiny caresses for a few seconds, taking in how this experience was making him feel. It was fascinating to touch a cock that wasn’t his own, even through fabric. It felt different, yet the same. And the way his own groin ached when he touched Bodie made it seem almost as if he were touching himself.

He couldn’t remember ever being this excited by giving pleasure to another. Maybe it was because he’d wanted Bodie for so long, and he’d seemed so unattainable. There were two other possibilities that he could think of, and he wasn’t particularly keen on either. One was simply that it was a man he was touching now, which meant he was more turned on by men than women. Ray was fairly sure that wasn't true. The other possibility was that this was so good because it was _Bodie._ That was the most frightening one of all.

‘Good?’ he asked.

Bodie nodded.

‘OK.’

Ray inched down Bodie's briefs until they hung around his thighs, and felt a jolt of arousal as Bodie's cock sprang out of its confines to stand upright against his stomach. Ray couldn't help but just stare for a moment. There seemed to be no part of Bodie that he didn't find utterly beautiful. He'd never seen another man's erection up this close before, and right up to the last second, he'd been concerned, lest the sight of it didn't turn him on the way his fantasies had. But he needn't have worried. Momentarily, his whole pelvic area felt like it might explode with the need for release, and he moaned softly, causing Bodie's still somewhat anxious expression to turn into a kind of aroused fascination. Ray's cock was trying to surge up in sympathy with Bodie's, but he was still fully clothed. He wouldn't have wished the ache away, though. It only promised pleasure later.

'I want you so much,' he told Bodie, finding to his embarrassment that his throat had closed up and he could only croak the words out.

'I want you, too,' Bodie replied, his voice reassuring now, as if he sensed Ray's own nervousness. 'Keep going, Ray. Feels wonderful.'

Ray smiled, thankful for the encouragement, though he was surprised at himself for needing it. He stroked the bare skin of Bodie's cock lightly, making Bodie gasp in appreciation. Emboldened, Ray squeezed gently with his right hand, and with his left he cupped Bodie’s balls in his palm, while his fingertips teased and tickled. He was rewarded with a groan that made his body quiver in response.

‘Feels good to hear you,’ he said softly, his mouth close to Bodie’s ear.

‘Aahhh,’ Bodie moaned, when Ray squeezed harder, running his thumb around the glans.

‘And to touch you.'

‘Mmm,’ was all Bodie managed to reply.

'Am I turning you on?' Ray asked, with a smile in his voice.

'Moron. You know you are,' Bodie replied, breathless, but clearly not too far gone to provide a comeback.

Ray chuckled. 'Yeah.' His voice was barely above a whisper now. He let his breath tickle Bodie's ear, and smiled when he shivered. 'So what _else_ could I be doing to you, eh?'

He drew back a little, and flicked out his tongue, lightly touching Bodie's lips. Then he dropped his eyes meaningfully down to his partner’s crotch. Bodie looked rather nervously at him, but after a second or two, he nodded.

‘Tell me what to do, Bodie,’ Ray said sweetly, repeating his earlier words on purpose. But Bodie wasn’t going to let Ray lead him the whole way.

‘Tell me what you _want_ to do to me, Ray,’ he replied.

Ray thought about arguing, just for the sake of drawing out Bodie’s pleasure, but he just grinned, and kissed him deeply, his hand snaking round to grasp the back of Bodie’s neck. He sighed into his partner’s mouth when he felt Bodie’s hands grip his waist, then his buttocks. He drew back, resting his forehead against Bodie’s. When he spoke, he looked straight into Bodie’s eyes.

‘I want to suck your cock until you come in my mouth.’

Bodie's mouth dropped open, his eyes widened, and his head went back against the wall. He was breathing hard, looking almost shocked at the offer -- or the directness of it, anyway -- but Ray could see and feel the strength of his partner's true reaction, between his legs, hard and demanding. Ray knew Bodie wanted it.

Without giving Bodie a chance to respond further, Ray wriggled out of his hold and sank to his knees. Bodie’s underpants had slipped down to his knees; Ray tugged them the rest of the way to join Bodie's trousers, abandoned on the floor. Then, without further ceremony, Ray opened his mouth and lowered his head.

Bodie gave a yell and thrust upwards. The head of his cock hit the back of Ray’s throat; Ray gagged and drew back.

‘Sorry,’ they said at the same instant. There was an awkward laugh.

‘I’ll have to get used to that,’ said Ray.

‘Plenty of time,’ said Bodie. He laid his hand against Ray’s cheek as he spoke, and his eyes smouldered with intensity. At this unexpected tenderness, Ray felt like his insides were melting. He looked down quickly so the feeling wouldn’t show in his eyes. He returned to his task, and Bodie’s hand left him.

At first it felt strange –- alien -– but never _wrong._ It was like an out-of-body experience; he was floating up near the ceiling, watching himself sucking Bodie off against the wall of his own living room. Then he came back to himself, started to taste and feel as well as to touch. He licked and sucked and stroked Bodie’s cock and balls, doing what he liked having done to himself – he was yet to learn what Bodie liked. Not that Bodie seemed to mind, or be in any state to correct him if he did. Ray could hear his breathing become more audible until it was coming constantly in moans and whimpers -- not loud enough to worry the neighbours, but enough to express his pleasure and for the ache in Ray's groin to become almost unbearable. He looked up, hoping to meet Bodie’s eyes, but they were shut; Bodie's head was flung back and it thrashed from side to side. Ray closed his own eyes and sucked him harder. Seconds later there was a loud gasp above him; Bodie’s hands closed over his head, holding him exactly where he was, and Bodie’s voice spoke in urgent need.

‘Ray … God, don’t … don’t stop … please … I’m …’

Bodie’s next cry was low and long and seemed to come from deep inside him. It was pure ecstasy, pure release; his back and neck arched, his muscles tensed, and Ray watched, and listened, and smelled, and tasted, and felt; his senses were overloaded with sex, and Bodie.

Bodie … the sheer masculine beauty of the man, the intensity of his pleasure, his lack of reserve in showing it … had Ray ever truly seen his partner in all the time he’d known him? Had he really thought he’d ached with all the lust, and everything else, that he could feel? Now, it was like some floodgate inside Ray’s soul had opened, and the intensity of his perceptions and feelings increased to infinity. It nearly overwhelmed him, but he fought for control. Just in time, just as Bodie started to come back down to earth, Ray’s brain won.

‘Have you really never done that before?’ Bodie asked.

Ray grinned, feeling smug at this appraisal of his debut performance.

‘No,’ he answered, ‘but I know what I like. And I’ve got an imagination.’

‘Some imagination,’ Bodie said, smiling affectionately at him. ‘Hmm,' he added, after a short pause. 'I s'pose it must be your turn now.’

‘Don’t feel you have to, just because I …’

‘No, I want to,’ Bodie interrupted. ‘No … stay down there, sunshine. I’ll come to you.’

He slid down the wall until he was sitting beside Ray, who was still on his knees. Bodie kissed him, then eased him onto his back. Ray watched him in awe, breathing quick, shallow breaths, as Bodie stripped him from the waist, then pushed up his t-shirt and pinched his nipples between firm, sure fingers and thumbs. Ray gasped as shocks of pleasure shook his body. He was still recovering when Bodie pulled his t-shirt over his head, and he realised he was completely naked.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Bodie whispered, as he looked him over. ‘S'pose I shouldn't feel _too_ bad about fancying a bloke, when it’s a bloke like you.’

Ray's mouth quirked a little. He couldn't help but feel flattered.

‘You’ll have to let me strip you properly next time.’

'Why wait for next time?' Bodie asked, raising his eyebrows. As Ray had hoped he would, he took his jumper off and started to unbutton his shirt. Impatiently, Ray sat up, pushed his hands away and did it himself, running his hands over Bodie's shoulders as he bared them. He tossed the shirt carelessly away, leaving Bodie wearing only a white vest. He grinned arrogantly at Ray and pulled it off … very slowly. He dropped it onto the floor beside him and struck a pose, sitting with his knees bent, left leg sideways and at rest, while his right was raised, the foot flat on the floor. His weight was supported on his left arm, while the other rested against his right knee. He looked breathtaking.

 _If I tell him what I really think,_ Ray wondered, _would I be giving myself away?_

He realised that his mouth had fallen open and he was staring unashamedly at his best friend, whom he'd glimpsed naked before, but never quite like this. Bodie's expression was humorous, and his thickly-lashed eyes held a wicked sparkle, as if he knew exactly what effect he was having. But there was a touch of expectancy, a paradoxical sense of nervous anticipation.

'Well?' he asked. Ray couldn't tell whether the catch in his voice was a laugh or a quiver.

'Come here,' Ray replied. He slid over to Bodie and pulled him up by his shoulders. 'You are …'

_… the most beautiful thing I've ever seen …_

'Fucking' -- he kissed Bodie's lips and caressed his smooth, bare chest -- 'gorgeous.'

Bodie responded by leaning over Ray, pushing him gently down onto his back again. Straddling him, he rubbed his soft, damp groin against Ray’s hot, hard one.

‘Oh, God,’ Ray moaned. Never mind how amazing it felt; it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

‘Good, yeah?’ To Ray’s disappointment Bodie stopped what he was doing and sat back on his heels, raking his eyes over Ray’s body.

‘I saw a couple of mercs doing that in Africa once,’ he said conversationally. ‘Didn’t really appeal at the time, but now …’

 _‘Now,_ Bodie, why the hell did you stop?’ Ray's frustration was starting to make him irritable, and the way Bodie smirked at his tone didn't help.

‘Not till I can join in properly,’ Bodie told him firmly.

‘Well do _something,_ for fuck’s sake.’

‘Mmm, like what?’

‘Don’t tease!’ Ray gave Bodie's ribs a gentle, but insistent, kick.

Bodie chuckled. ‘OK, OK. Jesus, you’d think it was urgent or something.’

‘Bodie!’ Ray growled. Then: ‘Oh – Bodie, that is fantastic …’

Bodie’s mouth had engulfed the head of his cock, and Bodie was stroking him with both hands. He moaned at Ray’s encouragement; his lips and tongue vibrated with the sound. Ray suppressed a cry, only just remembering to keep his voice down.

‘You want it quick or slow?’ Bodie asked, drawing back, but continuing to stroke.

‘I – I don’t think there’s much …’ Ray gasped as Bodie started to suck him in earnest ‘… choice … oh, Bodie, yes … now … _yes_ …'

Ray repeated Bodie’s name like an incantation as he came, and his voice rose in pitch, if not in volume, with the crescendo of his orgasm. It had been all too quick a climb to release. He’d got so worked up from doing it to Bodie that it wouldn’t have taken much to finish him off even if he’d just been masturbating, but he’d never been sucked so intensely, so powerfully. Bodie’s mouth was as strong as the rest of him.

‘Wow,’ he said, when he could breathe again. Bodie lay down next to him on the floor. They turned to look at each other, and they both grinned.

‘Wow, yeah,’ said Bodie.

There was a considerable, but companionable, silence. Ray folded one arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks. But he couldn't resist looking at his partner for long. When he turned his head again, Bodie was watching him, and the expression in his eyes was warm. Ray smiled, and reached over, briefly, to touch his shoulder. Bodie smiled back at him.

‘Well,' Ray said, stretching, 'at least I’ve satisfied your curiosity.'

'Believe me, Doyle, you did a lot more than that.'

'That mean you want to try again sometime?' Ray asked, fighting to keep his voice casual, and all pathetic hopefulness firmly out of it.

'Soon as possible, if I have it my way,' said Bodie. 'For one thing, you only satisfied _some_ of my curiosities. Dunno 'bout you.'

Ray laughed, more out of relief than anything else. ‘Oh, same as you, mate … _lots_ of things I want to find out, d'you know what I mean?’

The smile they shared then was affectionate, wicked, knowing -- and full of promise. It was enough, for the present. It was more than Ray had hoped for, anyway.

They didn't stay long on the floor after that, and their behaviour afterwards was efficient, even businesslike. By mutual consensus they stood up, gathered their clothes, and got dressed, as if they were two ordinary straight men in the locker room at HQ -- the men Ray had once thought they were. Then he muttered something about making the place presentable, and for once Bodie didn't complain or try and get out of helping; he just got on with it. He turned off the TV while Ray turned off the stereo and put his record away. Then they shared the task of cleaning the kitchen up from the rather messy cocktail making session. Neither of them spoke much until that chore was complete.

‘Now comes the good bit about tonight,’ Ray said lightly, as he closed a cupboard on sparkling clean glasses.

‘You mean we haven’t had it?’ Bodie replied, with a crooked grin.

‘OK, the _other_ good bit. You get to go home after the sex. Every bloke’s dream isn’t it?’

‘You kicking me out?’ Bodie teased.

‘Only if you want to go.’

‘But do _you_ want me to go?’

 _No,_ thought Ray.

‘I don’t mind,’ he said, shrugging.

‘Well then,’ said Bodie, picking up his car keys from where he’d left them, on the end of the kitchen bench. ‘I think I’ll enjoy my own bed.’ With a suggestive arch of his left eyebrow, he added, ‘Maybe you can enjoy it with me sometime.’

Ray smiled. ‘Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’

‘Sounds like the enhancing of one to me,’ Bodie replied, smiling back. ‘Night, Ray.’

‘Night.’

But for Ray, the sight of Bodie’s retreating back was more than he could stand. Cursing himself for being so needy, but unable to help giving in to it, he followed his partner to the door and took his elbow.

‘Hey. How ‘bout one last reminder about that friendship enhancing?’

He kissed Bodie without giving him the chance to reply. Bodie leaned into him, returning the kiss with fervour, arms wrapping tightly around Ray’s back and shoulders, pressing their bodies together. Then, with a big grin, he stepped away, ruffled Ray’s hair, and left the flat, giving the door a pull so that it shut behind him.

In the silence that followed Bodie’s departure, Ray suddenly thought that he should feel alone. Having such a wonderful, but definitely casual encounter with the man he’d been longing for –- the man he’d fallen for –- the man whose desires matched his, but whose feelings ran not nearly so deep –- should have been upsetting, surely. But he just felt ecstatic. He couldn’t stop smiling.

Deliciously, deliriously, _dangerously_ happy. Ray knew it. But -– and here was the even more dangerous part –- he didn’t care.


End file.
